


Pull Me Out From Under

by jackles67



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackles67/pseuds/jackles67
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Jared's a hunter. He's never had any qualms about killing things that go bump in the night but one night he goes back to another hunter's lair/house/whatever for a beer and sees that he's keeping vampire!Jensen prisoner and using him as a slave as well as beating/torturing/raping him whenever he wants."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pull Me Out From Under

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for [this](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/69733.html?thread=23364197&%20#t23364197) prompt over on the spn kink meme.
> 
> This story features abuse and rape, neither of which are between Jared and Jensen. There's some character death as well, again, not Jared or Jensen.

Jared’s been tracking this wolf for a few weeks now, counting down the days ‘til the full moon and packing silver bullets while he drives across country, always a town or two behind. When he finally rolls into Blackwater Springs early one afternoon, he knows he’s finally caught up by the sight of a black, beat up Chevy truck outside the only bar in town.  
  


Jared gets a room for the night before heading over to the bar, weapons concealed and charming smile pasted on. The heavyset bartender, after raking an interested look up and down Jared’s body, is only too happy to serve him beer after beer while he chats and subtly scans the room for a sign of the wolf.

 

She walks in about an hour after Jared, all sharp white teeth and sparkling brown eyes. Even the bartender can’t take his eyes off her. _Stupid_ , Jared thinks. She’s not even pretending to blend in. Jared orders another beer, settling in to watch his prey, let her get a few drinks under her belt.

 

“She’s a pretty one, ain't she?” Jack, the bartender, asks, not a trace of jealousy in his voice. There’s something off about the way he says it, and when Jared glances up at her he sees it written all over the guy’s face. _Hunger_. Interesting. He doesn’t know how the wolf swings, but he knows she won’t hesitate to use this kind of interest to her advantage. Hell, she won’t even care when the full moon comes out. Which, hey, should be in less than an hour. Time to get moving.

 

The wolf is already heading straight for Jared, sauntering over to lean her elbows on the bar. She only spares him a glance before shifting forward and grinning straight at Jack, letting her long brown hair fall forward over one shoulder.

 

Jared watches uneasily as the two flirt. He knows he needs to find a way to intervene, get the wolf alone and fast, but he’s rarely come across someone so completely oblivious to him. When Jack announces he’s going on break and Jared catches sight of the excited gleam in the wolf’s eye, he makes a snap decision and follows them out of the bar, trying to keep some distance.

  
The second he’s on the street, though, he knows he’s made a mistake. Jack and the wolf are nowhere in sight and the moon is already rising, low and heavy on the horizon. _Fuck_.

 

A growl escapes from a patch of darkness a few doors down and Jared sprints over, only to find he’s too late. The body is half behind a dumpster, blood already pooling under. Jared swears and reaches to feel for a pulse, already knowing he won’t find anything. He carefully avoids looking at the rough edged hole where the guy’s heart was. How did he fuck up a simple hunt so bad?

 

It’s only as he’s retrieving his hand from the silent neck that he notices the shiny brown curls he’s holding out of the way. Jared pulls back sharply, staring down at the dead wolf.

 

“Did you know tearing out their hearts works just as well as a silver bullet, long as you use a silver knife? More fun, too,” comes Jack’s voice from behind him. Jared turns slowly to find the sturdy bartender, hands and thick forearms thickly coated in drying blood.

 

“You’re a hunter,” Jared says. It’s not a question. Jared hasn’t met too many hunters outside of the few known safe-houses strewn around the country. He’s only overlapped with one on a case once before. He could kick himself for not recognizing what Jack is sooner, though, now that he sees it. The quiet strength that can’t be explained by hauling cases of liquor, the way he holds himself - like he’s always a few seconds from attacking.

 

“No shit. You wanna get out of here? Someone’s gotta find the body soon and I need to wash this off.” He gestures casually to the blood. “I bet you could use a beer right now.”

 

Jared visibly hesitates and Jack takes a step forward, cajoling smile on his face.

 

“C’mon, I never get other hunters rolling through. Just one beer?” His voice is a low growl, almost a purr.

 

“Yeah, alright,” Jared says, recovering with a warm smile. “Lead the way.”

 

Jack takes him down a few narrow streets, down one alley and some stairs set back from the street to an unassuming black door. Several deadbolts later and they’re in a basement. It’s a dank, moldy room, cement walls and floor covered in stains. Jack doesn’t slow down, just crosses the room to a huge iron door. Jared locks the deadbolts behind him and follows him through the door into what appears to be a warm, almost cozy little apartment. He motions for Jared to sit on the beat-up leather couch and, to his surprise, takes a seat beside him.

 

“Two beers, Leech,” Jack calls, and Jared startles when he catches sight of something moving in the corner.

 

It’s a man, filthy and naked and hunched over, iron rings around his ankles and wrists chained together. He makes his way to the fridge in the corner of the room that seems to serve as a kitchen and brings them each a beer, which Jack opens against the man’s shackles. Jared doesn’t say a word, instead accepting the beer with a polite nod and raising his eyebrows at the naked man.

 

“It’s a vamp,” Jack says in reply to his unspoken question. “Caught it a couple years back when I was clearing out a nest down South. It’s harmless, wasn’t even part of the nest, just lurking around.”

 

“Why’d you keep him?” Jared asks, eyeing the vampire curiously. He’s kneeling beside them, eyes downcast. He looks weak and a little shaky and there appear to be some bruises under all that dirt caking his skin. His hair might be brown or blonde, difficult to tell in this light.

 

“Why not? It’s useful to have around, for now. I won’t keep it forever, probably only has a month or two left in it anyway. They get weaker and weaker ‘til they can barely stand, that’s when you know they’re done.”

 

Jared’s confusion must show on his face, because Jack smiles and aims a not-so-gentle kick at the vamp’s prominent ribs.

 

“They can’t fight back if you don’t feed them. They just get weaker and weaker, nice and slow, and long as they don’t get blood they don’t make a fuss.”

 

Jared stares down at the vampire at their feet. He’s definitely shaking now, Jared can tell, and he feels sick to his stomach at the thought of something, even a vampire, dying so slowly and painfully.

 

Jack’s scooting across the couch, eyes alight with interest as he darts a glance between Jared and the vamp.

 

“You wanna play with it? It’s not as fun as when it fought back a little, but if you get it right it’ll still cry a little,” he purrs into Jared’s ear, and it takes him a good thirty seconds to understand what the guy’s implying.

 

“You... You _play_ with him?”

 

Jack’s smile widens.

 

“Of course. And I don’t even mind sharing my little toy,” he says, dragging his fingertips up the vampire’s back to grip his iron collar. The knowledge that vampires don’t need to breathe does nothing to stop the shiver of sympathetic panic as the thick band of metal digs into a pale, scrawny throat.

 

“No thanks,” Jared says, as casually as he can manage. His stomach is twisting uncomfortably as he stands up, draining his beer. “I gotta get going. Thanks for the beer. And for taking care of the wolf,” he adds with a polite smile.

 

“You’re leaving?” Jack asks, disappointment clear on his face. Jared nods and starts to turn away, trying to ignore sound of whimpering behind him.

 

“Okay. Hey, maybe we’ll cross paths again,” Jack calls as Jared reaches the door. “Don’t worry Leech, I can fuck you just as well without him. Would’ve been fun to see him stuff you full, though.”

 

Jared suppresses a shudder but can’t stop himself from glancing back as he goes to close the door behind him. The vampire is still on his knees, back arched as Jack yanks the collar up, one foot planted square in the middle of his back. Jack’s other hand is disappearing somewhere behind the vampire and its whole body goes rigid, face distorted with pain.

 

It takes a moment to click, but when Jared finally understands what’s happening he finds himself moving without having made a conscious decision to do so. Jack falls back into the couch in surprise, shocked face twisting into anger as Jared stands between him and the vamp.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses, pulling himself upright.

 

“This is fucked up, Jack. You can’t do this to someone, vampire or not.”

 

“It’s not even human; it’s a fucking monster. No wonder you couldn’t take care of that fucking werewolf,” Jack spits. “I thought you were a hunter.”

 

“I am a hunter, doesn’t mean I like to torture - or fucking rape,” he adds. Jack glares up at him, not an ounce of shame in him.

 

“Fine. Do it, kill it. It was getting old anyway,” Jack says and Jared can hear the challenge in his words clear as day. He pulls out his knife and grips the vampire’s dirty hair. Jared raises his knife to decapitate the guy, but as he tugs his head back to reveal that pale, vulnerable throat, a tiny whimper escapes the kneeling monster. It’s so pathetically weak, so completely harmless-sounding that Jared feels that twist in his gut again - guilt. He doesn’t kill things that can’t at least try to kill him right back.

 

“No.” Jared doesn’t even bother waiting for Jack’s reaction, just sheaths his knife and scoops the vamp into his arms. It’s alarmingly easy - even with the heavy chains, the guy weighs next to nothing. Jack’s still sputtering when Jared reaches the door, and this time when he turns back it’s only to leave him with a warning. “I hear you - or any other hunter - is pulling shit like this again, you’ll be the ones I’m hunting. Got it?”

 

Something in his face must show how serious he is, because Jack just nods weakly.

 

***

 

Getting the naked, chained vampire back to his motel room isn’t easy. The guy doesn’t struggle, but he’s not as small as he appeared and Jared’s pretty sure anyone he crosses paths with is going to notice the shackles. He takes side streets and covers the guy with his coat as best he can, sticking to the shadows. By the time he finally makes it to the room and drops the vamp on the bed, Jared’s sweaty with nerves and exertion. He mostly just wants to fall into bed and let himself drift into sweet oblivion, but he knows there’s a chance Jack’ll come after him and sticking around isn’t really worth the risk.

 

He’s not letting the vamp into his car covered in filth, though, so he gets the guy to stumble into the bathroom. Jared turns on the shower, twisting the knob and checking the temperature when he sees how the vampire shivers.

 

“Can you wash yourself?” Jared asks, and the vampire nods without looking up. Jared leaves him to it, coming back when he hears the water go off. He helps the guy out of the tub and walks him to the bed, one hand under his elbow and another on the chain between his wrists.

 

Jared picks the lock on the vamp’s collar, doing his best to ignore all that way soft skin peeking out of the huge ratty towel he’s wrapped in. It’s only when he picks open the ankle shackles that he notices how extensive the bruising is, even down to his feet.

 

The guy’s skin is covered in bruises and cuts in various stages of healing, some fresh and deep, others yellowing or scarring over. Jared’s never seen a vampire with scars; he always figured they had the same self-healing powers as werewolves. He traces one cut up from the guy’s ankle to his knee with a fingertip, noting that it’s been carefully cleaned, probably not by Jack.

 

“Can’t heal without blood,” the guy says, sandpaper-rough voice low above Jared. Jared still jumps a little - he honestly hadn’t been sure if the vampire would even remember how to speak.

 

“He did this to you?” Jared asks. The answer’s obvious but he needs to hear it, needs to be certain.

 

“Yeah.”

 

Jared finishes unlocking the guy’s wrists, noting how scraped-raw the skin there is, how bruised his arms are. There are what look like burns covering the pale, freckled skin stretched too tight over bone. Jared’s getting that sick feeling again.

 

“What’s your name?” Jared hands the vampire some clothes, not turning his back on him. He may have lost his mind a little with this, but he’s not stupid.

 

“Jensen.”

 

“Alright Jensen, I’m Jared. Once you get that on, I’m gonna chain you up again for a bit, just for the drive.”

 

Jensen doesn’t nod or otherwise show his acquiescence, just starts pulling on clothes. He hasn’t looked up at Jared at all yet, and somehow that doesn’t surprise him. Jack seems like the type to beat any sign of resistance out of his... pet? Slave? Jared’s not sure.

 

Jensen doesn’t fight when Jared puts the wrist and ankle shackles back on, wrapped in cloth this time so they don’t rub away at his skin. He walks in front of Jared on the way to the car, taking small, shuffling steps to avoid tripping with his ankles bound. Jared tries not to notice the way his own clothes hang off the guy’s scrawny frame.

 

***

 

Jensen falls asleep minutes after they get on the road but Jared waits a couple of minutes to make sure he’s really out before doubling back. He leaves the car running while he shoots the locks off Jack’s door.

 

When he gets back in the car, the twisting feeling in his gut assuaged by the certainty that Jack will never again get his sadistic hands on anyone, human or otherwise, Jensen’s still asleep. Jared turns the radio on low, pulling onto the freeway and savoring the familiar feeling of a case falling behind on the horizon. Except this time, he’s taking something with him.

 

***

 

Jared’s got a few safehouses he can go to. He figures this is a good time to take advantage of one of the little-known ones; he doesn’t want half a dozen hunters asking why he has a vampire with him, chained or not.

  
By the time he’s pulling up in front of the somewhat-dilapidated cabin miles from civilization, Jensen’s awake again. He hasn’t said a word, hasn’t even moved from where he’s slumped against the passenger side door, but Jared can tell from the tense set of his shoulders that he’s not sleeping. Jared steps out of the car with a groan, stretching and rubbing his sore muscles. He hasn’t slept in a couple of days and he’s not exactly the right size to be cramped up in a car all day.

 

They don’t speak as Jared helps Jensen out of the car and leads him up the path to the cabin, one hand on the chains between his wrists. Jared drops the duffel by the door and gives Jensen a moment to look around the place while he checks on supplies and turns on the electricity. Plumbing still works, that’s a plus.

 

It’s a small place, just one bedroom and a small living room-slash-kitchen, but it has a fireplace and it’s protected from most of the things Jared hunts, though evidently not from vampires.

 

The vampire’s shaking slightly when Jared comes back around to check on him. He hasn’t moved from the spot where Jared left him, standing, slightly hunched in on himself, a few feet from the door.

 

“You can come in,” Jared says. He waits patiently until Jensen shuffles forward. “Here, sit.”

 

Jensen sits gingerly on the couch. The guy’s clearly still in pain, his movements slow and careful, but he looks like he’s trying not to show it. Jared’s limited medical training is pushing him to examine Jensen more closely, check for signs of more serious injuries, give him pain meds - but he knows that’s not what Jensen needs. Jensen needs blood to heal, and obviously Jared’s not giving him that. It’s not pleasant to watch the brief grimaces of pain flit across Jensen’s face every time he moves, though, so Jared turns away, heading for the wood pile behind the cabin.

 

“Make yourself comfortable,” he calls back over his shoulder, ignoring how unlikely that is.

 

Once he has the fire going and a can of soup heating on the stove, Jared finally lets himself settle on the couch. He’s exhausted and he knows his body needs sleep but there’s something he has to do first and he’s not looking forward to it.

 

“So,” Jared starts. Jensen shifts a bit but doesn’t look up. “We gotta talk, but first things first. Can you eat normal food?”

 

Jensen shrugs.

 

“Yeah, but it won’t nourish me.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Jared already figured this would be the case. It’s not unheard of for vampires to claim they don’t feed on humans - “I only eat animals, swear to God,” - but no hunter worth his salt would ever believe that horseshit.

 

There’s an awkward pause while Jared reminds himself that the man before him, fidgeting with the too-long sleeves of the hoodie Jared lent him, isn’t even human. Jared’s relieved when he hears the sizzle of soup boiling over from the stove.

 

He offers Jensen a bowl, but the other man politely declines with a confused expression. Jared eats quickly, gulping down the scalding hot liquid, thoughts of the lumpy bed and warm quilt in the next room taking over.

 

Jared expects some kind of resistance when he announces that he’s going to have to lock Jensen up for the night but to his surprise, the vampire looks almost relieved. This being a hunter’s cabin, there’s a cell in the basement. It has an uncomfortable wooden cot and heavy iron rings on the walls, but Jared gives Jensen a blanket and a pillow, and doesn’t lock the guy to the wall. He thinks about removing the chains from Jensen’s wrist but in the end hunter’s paranoia wins out and Jared leaves them on.

 

Jared’s asleep seconds after his body hits the mattress, still fully clothed, gun within reach and knife under his pillow.

 

***

 

Jared sleeps late and goes for a run when he wakes up, taking a quick shower before unlocking Jensen’s cell. He eats breakfast over the sink while Jensen sits uncomfortably on the couch, staring down at his restless hands.

 

Jared carefully washes his hands, and then his plate, and finally steps away from a spotless sink when he can’t stall any longer. Jensen tenses visibly as Jared sits on the coffee table in front of him.

 

“So. We need to talk about this situation,” Jared says bluntly. Hunters aren’t well-known for their manners. Jensen raises his head a little, not enough to meet Jared’s eye, but enough to signify he’s listening.

 

“You gonna start killing people if you get some blood in you?” Jared figures it’s best to get this part out of the way. Jensen shoots him a startled glance - green eyes, Jared hadn’t noticed - and shakes his head quickly.

 

“N-no, I don’t, I mean, I’ve never even - I’ve never killed anyone.” The guy’s voice is still rough but he sounds younger than Jared had thought. He also sounds like he’s telling the truth, but Jared’s not trusting that particular instinct right now. Jensen may sound vulnerable, but he’s still a vampire and Jared can’t forget that, much as he might want to.

 

“Right. So, if I get you some animal blood, that gonna be enough for you to - you know, heal and stuff?” Jared gestures in the general direction of Jensen’s battered body.

 

“Yeah. I think it’ll be slower than with human blood, but I can be... better... good, if if I feed.”

 

Something about the wording sounds off to Jared’s ear, but he lets it go in favor of more pressing matters.

 

“And if I unchain you, you’re not gonna try and kill me?” Jared tries to throw a little humor in his voice but the vampire looks dead serious as he vehemently shakes his head.

 

“I told you, I don’t kill people.”

 

“Alright. I’m warning you now though, you try anything and I’ll gank you on the spot. I’ve killed dozens of your kind before and I got no shortage of knives around here sharp enough to slide through that pretty neck like butter, got it?”

 

It’s a little reassuring to watch Jensen swallow nervously, one hand reaching up unconsciously to curl protectively around his throat as he nods.

 

“Got it.”

***

Jared lets him have a few hours without the chains while he he cleans his guns and the knife he used on Jack. Jensen curls up on the couch, rarely taking his eyes off Jared and flinching every time he moves. Finally, Jared chains him back up, ignoring the way the guy starts trembling the instant Jared reaches for his wrists. Jensen’s expression of resignation turns to surprise when Jared leaves him on the couch, calling back, “Be back soon, don’t try and run away.”  
  


Jared’s a good hunter when it comes to ghosts, werewolves, vampires, hell, even demons, but when it comes to actual game, he’s somewhat out of practice. The rules of using this safehouse include avoiding all contact with any of the neighboring towns, which are hours away anyway, so Jared can’t just hit up a supermarket or butcher.

 

He finally brings down a doe and hauls it back to the cabin with the help of the truck parked out back and gets the carcass strung up just as the sun’s going down.

 

Jared doesn’t bother unchaining Jensen when he brings him out back, just leads him straight to the dead animal and says, “Dinner.” Jensen only hesitates for a second, his pupils going huge, presumably at the smell, before he closes his mouth over the white spot at the base of the doe’s soft throat.

 

Jared wants to leave him to it but his training won’t let him: leaving a vampire, probably greatly strengthened by a feeding, just as the last traces of daylight are leaving the treetops would be phenomenally stupid. So Jared stands behind the kneeling vampire with a gun in one hand and a stake in the other, watching as the tension bleeds out of Jensen’s shoulders and some color returns slowly to his cheeks.

 

Although Jensen looks marginally healthier after he’s wiped the last trickle of blood from his chin, he also still looks exhausted. Jared notes with disappointment that the bruises and cuts haven’t even faded. He lets Jensen sink back onto the couch while he cleans and butchers the deer, thanking whatever hunter installed a huge freezer in the cellar. The remaining blood from the carcass also gets stored in the freezer; Jared figures Jensen’s going to need another feeding within the next few days. The whole process takes him a few hours, but when he’s done he rewards himself with a huge slab venison and a beer.

 

Jensen seems particularly alarmed at the sight of the beer in Jared’s hand and Jared’s mind immediately jumps to all the ways Jack-the-asshole could’ve instilled that fear in him. He’s pretty sure the marks he can see are the least of Jensen’s damage. Speaking of which...

 

“Hey, so that blood do anything for you?” Jared asks, leaving his beer in the kitchen and coming to sit on the couch beside Jensen. Jensen ducks his head, a mumbled answer getting lost on the way. Jared waits for more, but Jensen just sits still, bowed, waiting.

 

“Seriously, you healin’ now? ‘Cause you don’t look much better to me.” No point in sugar-coating it. Jensen shakes his head.

 

“It’s slow, but it’s happening. If you- I can still... My mouth...” Jensen trails off.

 

“What about it?” Jared’s gaze catches on said mouth and there’s something fascinating about the way white teeth catch on plump, wet lips.

 

“If you need to... use me. I’m not healed yet, but you can use my mouth.”

 

It takes Jared a full 30 seconds to understand what Jensen’s saying, what he’s offering Jared. It takes him another moment to understand what he means by “not healed yet.” He can’t even begin to find a way to respond, rendered speechless with revulsion. He’d figured out that Jack was raping Jensen, but the evidence still sends a shot of horror through him.

 

Jensen looks more terrified than ever and Jared curses his own utter lack of a poker face.

 

“No. I’m not going to be ‘using’ you for that.” Jared can hear his voice shake with anger; he tries to unclench his fists, even out his breathing.

 

Jensen doesn’t look relieved - if anything, he looks ready to bolt, but he takes a deep breath and meets Jared’s eye.

 

“If you’re going to kill me, please, just do it. Please.” The last word is a whisper, an edge of panic cutting into Jensen’s voice. Jared feels an unfamiliar heaviness in his chest that he can’t shove down.

 

“If I were gonna kill you, you’d be dead. I don’t drag it out, and I don’t _play_ with my prey,” Jared growls.

 

“Then why did you take me?” Jensen spits, an accusation Jared doesn’t understand underlying his words.

 

“I don’t know. Maybe I should have left you there to starve until that piece of shit finally put you out of your misery!” Jared doesn’t know why he’s yelling, only that there’s anger blazing through his veins: anger at Jack for being such a twisted, fucked up excuse for a human being, anger at Jensen for expecting Jared to be just the same, and anger at himself for somehow saddling himself with a broken vampire.

 

Jensen shrinks back from Jared’s outburst, eyes immediately dropping to the floor, shoulders hunching in. He looks small, helpless even, and there’s guilt burning like acid in the pit of Jared’s stomach.

 

_Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake, this guy isn’t even human. It’s like kicking a dog._

 

“I’m sorry. Look, just forget it, okay? It’s about time for bed anyway.”

 

Jensen doesn’t stop shaking, even after he’s safe behind the bars of his cell.

 

***

 

They don’t speak of it again for several days, though Jared can tell Jensen’s still waiting to find out what Jared wants from him. Instead, they fall into an uneasy truce, one in which Jensen obeys Jared’s every word and Jared has to keep reminding himself to lock Jensen up when he leaves for a run or to go fishing.

 

Jensen does not like fish blood, Jared learns. It seems that bigger mammals are best, but he’ll drink a squirrel if he has to. He didn’t exactly turn his nose up at the fish, just blushed deep pink and mumbled an apology.

 

Jared finds himself watching Jensen for signs of improvement and he finds them, though not nearly as many as he’d like. Jensen can walk across a room without stopping to lean against a chair and the oldest bruises are yellowing and even the deepest cuts seem to be healing.

 

Jared knows this because Jensen asked for permission to use Jared’s shower and proceeded to undress before Jared had a chance to back out of the bathroom. He left the door open, too, telling himself it was a precaution and not because the mere sound of water hitting Jensen’s skin was enough to have Jared itching to follow the vampire in.

 

Jared’s fairly nocturnal - a common side effect of the hunting lifestyle - so he and Jensen often find themselves sitting in the living room together, Jared with his weapons and Jensen either watching him or staring into the fire. He’s recently started taking some of the paperbacks lying around into his cell with him when he goes to bed, but when Jared’s around, he seems to prefer watching the hunter.

 

Jared’s making silver bullets now, seated on the floor in front of the fireplace, melting various bits of metal into shape. Jensen’s more relaxed Jared’s ever seen him, curled up in his usual spot on the couch with a blanket around him. Jared keeps glancing up to find Jensen watching him curiously. After a few moments of awkward eye contact, Jared finally breaks the silence.

 

“What? What is it?”

 

Jensen shrugs, but when Jared doesn’t look away he speaks up.

 

“This isn’t your real home, is it?” Jensen sounds hesitant, like he doesn’t think he’s supposed to be asking.

Jared’s surprised by the question and by the fact that Jensen noticed, let alone cared enough to ask about his home.

 

“No, this is just a hunter’s safehouse. We come here when we need to go to ground, or we need some time off. Or when we’re injured, or after a really bad hunt. It’s a good place, but it’s not mine. I don’t get the chance to go back to my place too often.”

 

Jensen’s quiet for a moment and when he speaks his voice is low, with that gentle rasping quality that Jared’s starting to think isn’t a result of the abuse but just the way Jensen talks.

 

“Jack... He explained it to me. What it’s like, being a hunter. Seeing all those terrible things, doing - Well, you know. He told me how it messes up your head, makes you need - ” Jensen’s voice breaks and he clears his throat, shooting Jared a rueful look. “Makes you need to blow off some steam sometimes. That’s what he kept me for. Better with a vampire than with a real person.”

 

Jared’s blood is pounding in his ears by the time Jensen falls quiet. The vile words sound even worse in Jensen’s soft, matter of fact tone. _He really believes it,_ Jared thinks. That needs to change.

 

“He told you - I know, okay, I know there are hunters out there who only do this because our life has no rules. They think we can do whatever we want, because we’re saving people, that it evens out in the end.” Jensen is nodding along, wide eyes fixed on Jared. “They’re full of shit. Jack was a sick fuck who just chose you because nobody was ever going to notice or care what he did to you.”

 

“I know,” Jensen murmurs softly. “This is what I’m good for. This is what I can do. I can do it for you, too.”

 

Jared recoils from the words, but struggles to keep his anger in check this time.

 

“I thought we talked about this. I’m not interested.”

 

For a moment, Jensen looks as though he’s going to argue. Instead he ducks his head and Jared watches that pink flush creep up his cheeks, finds himself wondering if his skin would be warm to the touch or cold like death. He’s never bothered touching a vampire except to kill it before. When Jensen speaks again, Jared’s deep in musings about what Jensen’s skin might feel like under his palms.

 

“If you’re not going to - if you’re not interested, what do you want me to do? You haven’t killed me, I’m not a freeloader, and it doesn’t look like you’re letting me go anytime soon.” He says it so matter-of-factly, like he never even expected to be set free. It makes Jared wonder.

 

“How long did Jack keep you?”

 

Jensen shifts, taken aback by the question.

 

“I... I’m not sure. I think it must’ve been something like a year. Maybe more... He caught me after he killed the nest that made me, you know.”

 

“You weren’t living with them, though, right?” Jared asks, remembering Jack’s words.

 

“No, I was on my own. I ran away the day after they changed me. A couple of months later Jack caught me and took me back to his place.”

 

Jared blinks in surprise. He always imagines vampires being old, and judging by their fashion choices, some of the ones he’s killed have definitely been around for a while. Jensen only looks to be in his twenties and Jared is realizing he might actually look his age. _Doesn’t mean he’s not a bloodsucking monster_ , Jared reminds himself.

 

“Never thought about running away?” Jared asks.

 

“I tried, once. It was a month after he caught me. I made it all the way out of town before he caught up with me.” Jensen swallows hard. “He made me beg to be allowed to come back.”

 

Jared’s stomach turns over.

 

“He didn’t take the chains off me again after that, and he started keeping Dead Man’s Blood in the house. He didn’t like to use it, liked it better when I had the strength to struggle.” Jensen shrugs, like his words aren’t creeping under Jared’s skin, making him wish he’d actually killed Jack. “Sometimes I’d try not to fight back, but he’d just push harder. Said it wasn’t fun unless I was screaming. I wasn’t going to last much longer, you know? If you hadn’t come, I mean. He was getting bored, it was getting harder for me to put up a fight.”

 

Jensen pauses, looks up into Jared’s horrified eyes.

 

“I’m trying to say thank you. This is better than where I was. Even if you - change your mind, if you want to use me, even if you kill me - this is better.”

 

Jared can only nod.

 

***

 

Jared lies in bed, staring at the ceiling and seeing only Jensen’s honest green stare. He’s not how Jared expected, not really. He’s soft-spoken and quiet, but Jared had attributed that to the fact that he was beaten half to death only a week ago. Now, Jared’s starting to think this is just how Jensen is: gentle, serious, maybe a little shy. He wonders what Jensen was like as a human - probably sweet, maybe a little too quiet to be Jared’s type, but definitely hot enough to be on his radar.

 

_He’s not human_. It’s becoming a mantra for Jared, a reminder he needs more and more.

 

Jared knows what it feels like to have his bones snapped like twigs by a vampire. He knows that they can hear, see, and smell far better than he can, and they use that fact to their advantage. He’s watched people die from blood loss, watched a person turn into a monster that had to be put down, watched as razor sharp fangs tore through soft skin like so much tissue paper.

 

Yeah, he’s not getting any sleep tonight.

 

Padding quietly down the hall to the kitchen, Jared pauses at the door to the cellar. There’s a sound - not loud, the cellar is meant to be soundproof - emerging from behind the door. There it is again - quiet moaning, mumbled words... Begging, Jared thinks. He eases the door open a crack and listens.

 

“No... No, please, stop, please. I’ll be good, I won’t - Please!”

 

Jensen’s having a nightmare, Jared realizes. He feels like he’s intruding on something private but he doesn’t want to leave Jensen alone with his fear.

 

Jared settles for shutting the door louder than necessary and is rewarded by a sharp gasp from the cellar, then silence.

 

***

 

Jared’s starting to get antsy from being out of the game for so long. It’s been over a week, which is more than his usual “vacation”, and he needs a good hunt. He’s hogging the safehouse, too, although he knows few other hunters actually use this place.

 

He brings it up after dinner one night, Jared drinking his beer on the couch and Jensen squeezing the last drops of blood from a bag. It’s from a buck Jared brought down a few days ago and Jensen says it’s the best he’s had.

 

“Was thinkin’ of going on a hunt,” Jared starts. “The monster kind, not deer.”

 

Jensen lowers the empty bag.

 

“Am I - Do I go with you?”

 

Jared nods.

 

“Can’t leave you here, it’s a hunter’s place and I’m not the only one who comes here. Think you can handle the road now?”

 

Jensen nods eagerly.

 

“Yeah, I’m good, just a few cuts and my ribs still messed up, but I’m fine. Where’re we going?”

 

Jared almost laughs. This is the most animated he’s ever seen Jensen and the change is palpable. His eyes are sparkling, cheeks flushed, there’s even an upward tilt to the corner of his mouth like he might smile.

 

“There’s a thing over in Washington. State, not DC. It’ll take us a couple days to drive over; I was thinking we’d leave tomorrow. Gotta lay down some ground rules first, though.”

 

Jensen nods attentively and sits up straighter.

 

“You do everything I say. You follow my orders without question. You don’t talk to anyone else. This one’s obvious, but I’ll say it anyway: you don’t drink anyone.”

 

Jensen’s still nodding.

 

“You don’t touch my weapons and you don’t leave my sight unless I tell you to. Got it?”

 

“Got it.”

 

Neither of them mention that most of these rules are clearly designed to keep Jensen safe.

 

They leave the next evening, just as the sun is dipping low over the trees. Jensen can be in the sun, but it burns his skin after only a few minutes of exposure. Jared doesn’t mind driving at night; he figures they can get a motel in the morning and sleep through the day.

 

***

 

Jared starts missing the cabin after only a few hours. It’s weird, because he’d been so eager to leave, but now that they’re out in the real world he can’t seem to keep reality at bay. He’s going on a hunt with a vampire he _kidnapped_ , with no guarantee said vampire won’t rip his throat out in his sleep or escape for a snack and end up on a killing spree.

 

He didn’t put the chains on Jensen in the car but he’s starting to regret it. Jensen’s staring out the passenger window at the dim twilight filtering through the trees and every time he shifts Jared tenses, ready to grab the gun beside him. After a while, he thinks Jensen must’ve noticed because he’s sitting very still, making only slow, gentle movements.

 

_Fuck_ , Jared thinks, _Now I’ve scared him_. Except, of course, he shouldn’t care that Jensen’s scared. He shouldn’t be thinking about what Jensen’s feeling at all. He shouldn’t even have Jensen with him - this hunt doesn’t seem particularly dangerous, but he knows how easy it can be to lose focus and -

 

Jensen shifts again and Jared looks over at him. He’s curled against the passenger door wearing one of Jared’s hoodies and a pair of Jared’s jeans. He has the hood pulled up and he’s gazing out the window with such a peaceful expression on his face that Jared wants to keep him there, just like this, as long as he can.

 

Jared wrenches his gaze back to the road and sternly tells himself to focus on the case, go over the details, and _stop thinking about Jensen_.

 

It’s going to be a long drive.

 

***

 

The floor is grimy in Jack’s lair. Jensen wishes he could clean it, or have a bed. Or a pillow. A blanket. A warm, soft blanket to wrap himself in, something to separate him from the hard cement pressing into his bruised flesh. He shifts and pain slices through his side, bright hot agony from his ribs to his collarbone. He wonders for a moment if anything’s broken, then tries to sink back into his fantasy.

 

“Leech. Get over here.”

 

Jensen’s body responds almost without input from his mind, which is still trying to escape into fuzzy numbness. He pulls himself up and starts to stand, but a sharp tug on the chain clipped to his collar brings him back to his knees.

 

“Crawl. On your knees like the bitch you are.”

 

By the time Jensen makes it over to where Jack is sprawled in his one throne like leather armchair, Jensen’s knees and palms are stinging with scrapes. He stops in front of Jack and is rewarded with another hard tug of his collar.

 

“Suck me.”

 

Jensen’s stomach churns but he pulls himself up and unbuttons Jack’s pants. The man is physically repulsive to him, from his smell to his voice to the feel of his skin. He’s not hard yet - _Of course he isn’t, you’re not crying yet_ \- so Jensen starts to work him with one hand.

 

“Put it in your mouth,” Jack tells him, grabbing onto Jensen’s hair. He’s pulling and shoving Jensen’s face into his crotch, rubbing Jensen’s lips against himself. Jensen opens for him and whimpers when Jack grinds his face down even harder. The instant the sound leaves him, Jack’s dick starts to swell, growing to fill Jensen’s mouth.

 

“That’s it. You’re just a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

 

There’s something sharp running over the side of Jensen’s neck, stinging pain bursting over the skin of his collarbone, his shoulder, down his back. It’s a knife, something that would never have hurt Jensen when he was at his full strength. Now, though, the pain is enough to bring tears to his eyes and he lets out another whimper.

 

“If you’re good and you make me come with that pretty mouth, I won’t even fuck your ass tonight,” comes Jack’s voice from just above Jensen’s head. Jensen feels a quick flash of hope and tries to make it good, moving his tongue and sucking hard. Jacks’ hips are thrusting up into his mouth while his left hand clenches in Jensen’s hair, his right hand busy running the knife over Jensen’s skin.

 

Just as Jack’s breathing starts to stutter and his movements are becoming erratic, the knife digs into the dip between Jensen’s ribs, hard. Jensen lets loose a cry and inadvertently scrapes his teeth along the length of Jack’s cock, earning himself a hard, ringing blow to the head and another gash on his ribs. Jack hits him again, sending him sprawling across the filthy floor.

 

When Jensen looks up again, Jack is looming over him wearing a vile grin. He tugs on Jensen’s chain.

 

“Turn around, Leech. Show me that pretty ass, only thing you’re good for. Didn’t think I was really going to give you the night off, did you?”

 

Jensen starts to beg.

 

***

They stop at a motel only a quarter of an hour after sunrise, as soon as Jared notices Jensen wincing at the sunlight. They get a room with two beds and Jared throws Jensen a bag of blood from the cooler in the trunk before settling down to enjoy his own dinner. A part of him had missed road food, burgers and chips and occasionally, when he was feeling particularly brave, tacos from a roadside truck. Tonight’s fare is a huge burger and fries, plus an extra order of onion rings. Jared eats like he always does - with abandon and a complete disregard for anyone who might be watching. Jensen doesn’t even stare anymore.   
  


Jared can’t seem to drift into sleep. He handcuffed Jensen to one of the beds, muttering an apology as he did so. Jensen hadn’t said anything, just let himself be moved this way and that while Jared figured out how to secure him in the most comfortable position. Jared couldn’t help but notice that Jensen’s skin was warm and soft, not at all the cold hardness he was expecting.

 

The alarm clock reads 11:13 AM when the moaning starts. It’s soft at first, so soft Jared thinks he’s imagining it. He turns to face the other bed and finds Jensen shifting and pulling at his shackled wrists, tossing his head and whining.

 

“No... Please, don’t. Please, please please don’t please, no, please stop, oh God please, no.”

 

Jared’s out of bed before he knows what he’s doing. He sinks down onto Jensen’s bed and awkwardly places a hand on the man’s shoulder.

 

“Hey... Jensen, hey, wake up, man. You’re just dreaming, you’re okay.”

 

Jensen struggles, crying out loud now, tears streaming down his face. Jared tries to restrain him, afraid he’ll hurt himself.

 

“Stop! Please stop, please, don’t, _no no no_.”

 

Jared gives Jensen a gentle shake. Jensen tenses and starts to pull even harder at his cuffs before opening his eyes. When he sees Jared, he freezes, eyes scanning the room. Jared can see the instant he realizes where he is and who he’s with. Jensen relaxes minutely, though his eyes stay warily on Jared.

 

“Sorry,” Jensen mumbles, voice still raspy from sleep and crying. He’s still shaking hard, shrinking away from Jared’s grip on his arms. Jared releases him reluctantly.

 

“You okay now?”

 

Jensen nods but Jared notices he’s still straining his wrists against the cuffs, the skin there getting rubbed raw. Jensen doesn’t even appear to notice he’s doing it.

 

Jared wants to uncuff him. Actually, he wants to wrap himself around the curled-up ball that is Jensen right now and shoot anyone who comes near them. He shoves that instinct down with the reminder that the moment he stops being vigilant could be the moment this vamp rips his throat out.

 

Jared goes back to bed with the unsettling feeling that he might be in over his head with this one. He resolves to start putting more distance between himself and Jensen when they wake up, to start treating him like what he really is, maybe even figure out what he’s going to do with the guy.

 

***

 

Jared doesn’t like Washington - too much rain - but at least the motels are usually decent. He leaves Jensen in the room while he goes to interview the victim’s girlfriend and parents. It’s grueling work that leaves Jared exhausted. He stops by the morgue to investigate the body; unfortunately, it looks like a standard heart attack. He got a call about this case because healthy 25 year old men don’t drop dead of a heart attack, especially not one week after their childhood best friend does the same.

 

Jensen’s sitting at the the small round table in their motel room when Jared comes in around 7. His wrists and ankles are cuffed but not locked to anything else - it’s daylight, it would hurt him too much to go outside. He’s obviously been reading the case file, Jared’s research is spread all over the table and he’s poring over one newspaper article. He looks up when Jared walks in, a brief smile crossing his face before he looks down again.

 

“What are you doing?” Jared asks, a little more sharply than he meant to. He’s not used to seeing someone touch his personal belongings, especially a case file.

 

“I - I thought I could help. Look, did you -”

 

“What, you think you’re a hunter now? You don’t just go through someone’s research.” Jared crosses the room in long strides, gathers the papers into a pile and stuffs them back in the file.

 

“Sorry.” Jensen’s voice is so soft, so apologetic, and Jared feels a pang of guilt. He knows he’s overreacting but the sight of Jensen surrounded by Jared’s case - well, it felt like irrefutable proof of how ingrained Jensen is in Jared’s life now.

 

“Look, I just... You’re not here to help with the case, alright?” Jared tells Jensen, and for a moment he’s afraid Jensen will ask what he _is_ here for.

 

“I know. I’m sorry, really. I won’t do it again, I promise,” Jensen says, all wide eyes and sincerity.

 

“Good.”

 

Jared reaches for the article that’s still loosely clasped in Jensen’s hand. He glances at it before stuffing back into the file and hesitates. It’s an old article, from five years ago, long before the killings started. The only reason Jared has it is because it mentions the first victim - something about a scholarship.

 

“Why were you looking at this one?” Jared asks.

 

“Look on the back. I think it’s his sister.”

 

Jared flips the paper over and finds an article about a local teen going missing. There’s no name, but there is a brief mention of her brother leaving town to study on a full scholarship, and how hard it is for the parents to find themselves unexpectedly alone.

 

“So?” Jared asks, putting on a skeptical face. He’s not stupid: any new information can be useful, and this is definitely new information. Doesn’t mean he wants his vampire doing his job for him. _His?_

 

“So his sister was definitely dating the second victim. Rob. He left town too, not long after, right? There was something in there about him living in Seattle,” Jensen says, gesturing to the file, the motion restricted by the handcuffs. “They were dating when she disappeared, and then her brother left town, and her boyfriend left town, and then a week after they return for the first time both of them die.”

 

Jared stares at Jensen until he starts to fidget.

 

“I mean... It seems weird, right? Like a little too much of a coincidence?” Jensen asks uncertainly.

 

Jared nods, still staring. It’s another moment before he manages to snap out of it.

 

“They ever find the sister?” he asks, sitting down beside Jensen and laying the file back out on the table. He looks up to catch the expression of relief on Jensen’s face before Jensen turns back to the file.

 

“Maybe,” Jensen says. “They found a body a year later, in the river after a big storm. Police said they thought it washed out of the sewers. ‘Tentatively identified as Isabel Porter, 17 year girl reported missing one year prior.’”

 

“Buried?” Jared asks, and Jensen looks puzzled. “If it’s a vengeful spirit, I gotta salt and burn the bones.”

 

“Oh. I don’t know where they buried her, that wasn’t in the article.”

 

Jared nods. It’s no big deal; town this size, there’s probably only one cemetery and it wouldn’t be the first time Jared has to search for a grave. He’s actually pretty good at it at this point: he can tell a four-year-old grave from a ten-year-old one without checking the dates.

 

“I’ll go when it’s dark. People don’t generally like strangers lurking around their graveyards, burning their dead.”

 

Jensen nods and Jared starts to clear up the papers, carefully this time, his anger gone. Jensen’s just sitting there, so awkward and apologetic and Jared wonders how long it would have taken him to solve this case if it weren’t for him. Maybe only a day a or so, but who knows how many deaths that could be?

 

***

 

When Jared returns from the graveyard, smelling of dirt and smoke, Jensen’s sitting up waiting for him. He’s cuffed to the bed, but only by his ankle so he still has some range of motion. His wrists are cuffed together too and he’s twisting the sheets between his fingers when Jared walks in.

 

“Did you get it?” Jensen asks immediately, and Jared grins.

 

“Yup. Vengeful spirit, getting back at those who wronged her, the usual. Salted and burned,” he adds triumphantly. Jensen smiles and Jared wants to feel it against his own mouth, wants to bite softly at it until Jensen laughs quietly into him, wants to - He tears his eyes away with considerable effort.

 

“Gonna shower, then we can take off tonight. No need to stick around, and something’s killing old people in Oregon.”

 

Jensen murmurs his assent and Jared goes to wash the earth and sweat off himself, and if he spends a little too much time imagining what a vampire’s mouth might feel in some interesting places, well, it’s not like anyone’s around to see it.

 

***

 

Oregon’s rainy too, and the Djinn that’s feeding on the last traces of life lingering within the residents of the Dorena Nursing Home is a bitch to kill. Jensen stays in their motel room while Jared tracks it to its lair: a pretty little house with a white-picket fence around its perfectly manicured lawn. _Creepy_.

 

Jared has the silver knife he needs to finish this one off, but it taunts him for a while, threatening to drink his “boyfriend” and make Jared watch. That gives Jared pause, and the Djinn takes advantage of his hesitation to attack.

Jared buries the knife to the hilt in the Djinn’s belly, but not before it grabs onto his bicep with an iron grip. There’s pain, and a weird tingling feeling, like warmth seeping under his skin. Jared throws the Djinn away from him and watches as the light starts to leave its eyes.

 

“We’re gonna kill you for that. You and your little boyfriend,” it rasps out, before its eerie blue eyes finally roll back into its head.

 

Jared tries to make sense of that. _Boyfriend_. Jared doesn’t have one of those. The room is swimming slightly, and when it pulls back into focus there’s something else tickling his brain, something weird and wrong. _We_.

 

It all falls into place and Jared scrambles to his feet, still a little dizzy but far too preoccupied to care. He runs out into the rain and throws himself into his car, fumbling for the keys to start the damn thing. It feels like minutes before he’s peeling down of that picture perfect street and back to the motel.

 

***

 

The door to their room is hanging off its hinges so Jared kicks it down the rest of the way. His eyes are slow to adjust to the dim room, sluggish like the rest of him.

 

Jensen’s flat on the bed, held there by his cuffs while the Djinn kneels over him. Blue eyes meet Jared’s and it freezes, nostrils flaring. Jared has just enough time to see its palm pressed against Jensen’s neck and jaw before it lunges for him with an anguished scream.

 

It doesn’t bother trying to protect itself, just presses its hands to Jared’s face, fingertips digging into his cheeks and temples while Jared slashes clumsily at it with the silver knife. He knows he hits flesh when it groans in pain, but then he’s falling to his knees, strength leaking out of him as the Djinn lets him go.

 

Jared looks up and is satisfied to see that its wounds are deep, almost certainly fatal. He’s less pleased to find that he doesn’t have the strength to pursue it as it stumbles out the door, leaving behind a trail of blue blood.

 

The world tilts again and for a moment it’s like there are two motel rooms, one superimposed upon the other, two beds and two Jensens on them. Another shift and everything’s back. _Djinn must be dead,_ Jared thinks. A Djinn’s poison only works when it’s alive.

 

Jensen lies perfectly still while Jared uncuffs him, muttering apologies and curses. He can’t believe he let this happen - well, he can. Djinn are notoriously dangerous and Jared’s never tried hunting with a civilian in tow before Jensen. Still. What was he thinking, bringing Jensen along on a hunt and ignoring the dangers? He left him _handcuffed_ , for fuck’s sake. Jensen didn’t have a chance in hell of protecting himself, and it's all Jared's fault.

 

It’s not until Jared is checking an uncuffed Jensen over for injuries that he really notices Jensen isn’t moving.

  
  


***

  
  
  


***

 

The Djinn hadn’t bothered knocking, just kicked the door open, which is why Jensen thought it was Jared at first. It seemed like a Jared thing to do. It laughed when it saw Jensen was handcuffed; slung a leg over him and straddled his torso. It wasn’t until it had tugged Jensen’s shirt up and pressed its hands to his skin that it noticed Jensen’s not human.

 

“That’s okay, I can kill you the traditional way,” the Djinn purred, pulling out a knife. It dropped the weapon when the door was kicked open a second time, and Jensen could see it scenting the air. Jared was standing huge in the doorway, breathing hard like he’d been running, and covered in blue blood. The Djinn screamed and launched itself at him, and then Jensen couldn’t see what was happening, only that a moment later Jared was on the ground and the Djinn was gone.

 

And now Jared’s unlocking the cuffs, berating himself under his breath like he’s failed Jensen in some horrible way. There’s something wrong, like a bad taste only in Jensen’s mind instead of his mouth, and he’s pretty sure it’s coming from Jared. It’s not until Jared looks down at his face and his eyes go wide with panic that Jensen really starts to feel afraid.

 

“What?” he asks, and Jared scrambles back off the bed to his duffel. When he comes back up it’s with a stake in his hand and the bottom drops out of Jensen’s stomach.

 

“Jared?”

 

Jared’s blinking, shaking his head, and that’s when Jensen sees it: a blue tinge to his eyes, a trace of cobalt under his skin.

 

Jared’s advancing on Jensen like he’s a trapped animal and for all that Jensen’s spent these past few weeks convincing himself that Jared won’t kill him, he’s not so sure right now.

 

“Jared... Please,” Jensen begs, backing into a corner. Jared shakes his head again, like a dog trying to rid its ears of water, and when he looks up it’s with a puzzled expression on his face.

 

“Jensen?” He sounds confused, like he’s not sure what he’s doing there, and Jensen takes an involuntary step towards him. The blue flares up in his eyes again and he snarls. “Don’t come any closer, bloodsucker.”

 

Jensen freezes. A month ago, he would have welcomed that stake in his heart without a moment’s hesitation. Now... Now he knows what it’s like to be warm. To not be hungry all the time. To sit on a soft couch and watch Jared sharpen his knives, safe in the knowledge that they won’t be used on him.

 

He doesn’t want to die.

 

Jared takes another step forward, trancelike, and stumbles. Jensen takes the opportunity and dives for the door. He makes it in one piece, without any sharp wooden objects lodged in his heart. He shoots one last glance back to find Jared staring after him, head tilted to the side like he’s not sure what he’s seeing. Then Jensen’s gone, down the road and out of town. He doesn’t stop running until he’s on the shoulder of the freeway, thumb sticking out, and it’s so familiar he could almost laugh. _Just like the first time I ran away,_ Jensen thinks.

 

And just like that first time, all those years ago, he doesn’t realize his mistake until he’s already climbed into the first truck that stops for him. Only this time, it’s not a set of vampire teeth bared in a grin that give it away; it’s the smell - the rank stench of alcohol and unwashed hunter that Jensen will never fail to recognize.

 

_Jack_.

 

***

 

Jensen opens his eyes to a dank, damp cell. The walls are slimy and the floor is filthy, rough cement strewn with dirt and what look like small bones. His shoulder is tingling where he’s lying on it, both arms pulled behind his back, bound at the wrists. Jensen waits patiently for the feeling to come back to his hands and tries to shift into a more comfortable position while last night comes back to him.

 

The Djinn... And then Jared attacking him... Jared was ready to kill him. And Jensen ran. He should have stayed, should have found a way to beg, to make Jared see that he wasn’t a threat. Instead he ran and got on the freeway and - God, he should have known Jack wouldn’t just let him go. Jensen may not have been worth shit to Jack, but the hunter got off on owning Jensen... He never would have let Jensen get away.

 

Footsteps in the hallway alert Jensen to Jack’s presence. He can smell him, recognizes the sound of his wheezing breaths and little hum he lets out as he unlocks the door to Jensen’s cell.

 

“You awake, Leech?” The question is made irrelevant by the accompanying kick to Jensen’s ribs. He lets out a quiet “oof” but doesn’t bother replying otherwise. “C’mon, don’t be like that. You and me, we’re gonna have some fun just as soon as I finish setting up.” Jack kicks Jensen again, harder this time. “We’re gonna have so much fun you’ll never leave me again. Not even for that sasquatch who calls himself a hunter.”

 

“Jared?” Jensen bites his lip, but it’s too late. Jack grins.

 

“Don’t worry, if he comes for you, I’ll be ready. It’s all set up, all he has to do is walk in here and I’ll have him.” Jack leans down to put his fleshy lips against Jensen’s ear. Jensen holds back his shiver of disgust. “I’ll break him like I broke you, and then I’ll kill him. And I’ll make you watch.”

 

***

 

Jared wakes up with what feels like the hangover of his life. Pounding headache, Sahara-dry mouth, full body aches - the works. It’s only after a cup of coffee and a shower that he starts to parse out what happened the previous night.

 

He vaguely remembers killing the first Djinn... then it must’ve poisoned him, and he came back here because -

 

Jensen. He came back to the motel because the Djinn knew about Jensen. The first Djinn’s poison should have worn off almost immediately - their poison only lasts as long as they’re alive - but there was another, and it was _touching_ Jensen. Jared’s memories get steadily fuzzier as he tries to recall what happened next - blue fingertips digging into his face, the satisfying tear of flesh against his knife, struggling to focus enough to uncuff Jensen... And then - there - a flash of Jensen’s face, distorted, needle-sharp teeth protruding from stretched lips, eyes dark and feral.

 

_Why would Jensen vamp out?_

 

It hits Jared like a ton of bricks: he didn’t vamp out at all. Djinn’s poison makes you hallucinate. It’s supposed to be good things, but Jared - and every other hunter - knows a Djinn can control hallucinations any way they please. Jared’s never experienced it first hand before this, he didn’t know, didn’t realize what he was doing. Jensen must’ve been so scared.

 

_Jensen_. He’s gone; Jared remembers him running for the door just as the edges of Jared’s vision were starting to darken.

 

Jared’s halfway out to his car before it occurs to him that there’s no real reason to go after Jensen. Jared’s known for a couple of weeks now that the vampire isn’t dangerous to humans, even if he hasn’t admitted it to himself. The fact is, Jared’s been willfully ignoring the fact that Jensen doesn’t _actually_ need to be supervised by a hunter 24/7.

 

He sits in his car for a good half hour, fighting down the urge to track Jensen down. It would be so easy, too - Jared knows Jensen just well enough to find him in a couple of days, maybe less. Jensen doesn’t need that, though. Jared can’t just keep him on a leash like a dog, can’t track him down anytime he manages to get away.

 

Jared starts the car and pulls out of the motel parking lot, firm in his resolve not to go after Jensen. It’s for the best. It’s definitely for the best.

 

He pulls onto the freeway - little more than a dirt road out here - and breathes in the clean, fresh air of morning and the taste of freedom. He glances in the rearview for the traditional sight of the the town disappearing behind him; another case done. This time though, it feels like he’s lost something.

 

Jared’s mama always told him he jumped into things too quickly, didn’t think before he went and got himself into trouble. As he’s whipping the car around on the deserted freeway and heading straight back the way he came, he thinks to himself, _Why start now?_

  
***

By the time Jack drops Jensen back to the ground this time, he’s covered in more bruises and cuts than he thinks he’s ever had. There’s definitely at least one cracked rib and he’s bleeding in places he’d hoped would stay Jack-free forever. Jack deals him one final kick before walking out of the cell, not bothering to close the door. At first Jensen can’t figure out why he’s being so careless - then he remembers Jared, and the trap, and he groans to himself. Even that small movement hurts.   
  


Jensen tries to take himself out of the cell and into his mind. He pictures a soft blanket, like he used to, but this time it’s sitting on a couch and Jared’s sitting next to it. Jensen imagines curling up against Jared’s warm, solid body, one long arm wrapped around Jensen’s shoulders, the blanket covering them both. He imagines laying his head on Jared’s chest and listening to his strong heartbeat and breathing in his scent. Jared smells like gun oil and leather, but also like warm grass and soap. And he’s always so warm.

 

Jensen feels better about everything as he lies in the cold, filthy cell, the Jared in his mind stroking his hair and rubbing soothing circles on his back. In fact, Jensen feels much better. He brings himself back to the present and tries stretching his torso, gently at first, then sitting up to stare down at his body. The bruises are fading before his eyes, the cuts becoming puffy scar tissue and then disappearing. Jensen pokes himself in the ribs, just to check, and yes - they’re healed.

 

_The blood finally caught up with him_.

 

He rolls around in the dirt and grime a bit, covering up his healed skin, and sets about testing his strength.

 

***

 

Jared walks right into it. Literally. He strolled into this dingy basement expecting to find Jensen curled up on the floor, or maybe a couple of vampires having adopted him - not a full nest, Jared _did_ watch the place for few hours and there’d been zero activity. The last thing Jared expected was to walk down the creaky stairs, wood half rotted away, see Jensen on the floor through an open door and immediately get hit with a taser. He drops his gun and falls to the floor and his last thought before another charge hits him and he passes out is, _No, this was not the plan. Shoulda listened to Mom_.

 

He wakes up with his wrists above his head, thick metal cuffs digging into his skin. He hasn’t been hanging there for long, he can tell by the feeling still residing in his hands, but his arms are already aching. Jared tries to stand up and finds that his feet barely touch the ground. He can just get enough purchase to stand on his toes and relieve some of the burden from his arms.

 

That’s when Jared notices how weak he feels. It’s not just his arms, it’s everything - his legs are already shaking from standing up, his head is lolling on his neck, and even his mind is... blurry. _Drugged_. Great.

 

A quick glance around the room tells him this is a hunter’s den - not permanent, but not a one-night deal, either. There are weapons on the walls and a set of ‘interrogation’ instruments on a table a few feet from where Jared is hanging. He wonders if those are for him.

 

_How many insane, sadistic hunters can there be out there?_

 

The sad answer is that there might be plenty - if you’re not already that kind of person when you start hunting, the life will turn you without much difficulty - but there’s a familiar feel to this room that tells him there’s a chance he’s met this one before. The empty beer cans on the floor, the piles of takeout boxes and dirty napkins, and that _smell_.

 

Yeah, Jared is pretty sure this is Jack’s new lair.

 

He’s kind of glad he figured it out before Jack walks in, just so he can have the pleasure of looking supremely uninterested while Jack waits for him to react.

 

“Didn’t think you’d ever see me again, did ya?” Jack asks, grinning up at Jared. “Thought when you burned my place to the ground and threatened me with that big knife that’d be the end of it?”

 

“Well, clearly the message didn’t get through,” Jared spits, except it’s more of a slur. Damn drugs. “This time won’t just be a warning.”

 

Jack laughs and picks up a straight razor from the tray. Jared grits his teeth - this part won’t be pleasant, but at least the pain might chase away some of the fuzz in his brain.

 

“You listening, Leech?” Jack calls out, and Jared realizes the door to Jensen’s cell is still open. He can almost make out the dark shape of Jensen sitting on the floor in the gloom. Jack doesn’t wait for a response, just takes a step toward Jared. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring him out for the next part.”

 

Jack slices a long gash from Jared’s right collarbone to his left hipbone. Jared pushes down the bite of pain and keeps his voice steady as he replies.

 

“What’s the next part?”

 

Jack positively leers and slaps his meaty palm to Jared’s ass. Jared’s _bare_ ass, he quickly realizes. Jared’s not ashamed of his body, usually doesn’t give a second thought to how much skin he’s showing, but being naked for Jack’s greedy eyes is different.

 

“I’m gonna fuck you like a little bitch, show that bloodsucker what a _man_ you really are. Gonna make you beg for it.”

 

Jared rolls his eyes, but Jack isn’t paying attention. The next slash has white spots dancing in Jared’s eyes and he holds back a groan. He can feel the blood slipping down his chest and stomach - enough to weaken him, but not enough to kill.

 

Jack switches to short, deep cuts and occasional hard blows for a few minutes, his mouth keeping up a constant stream of filth as he alternates between groping Jared and cutting him. Jared feels bile rise in his throat at the realization that Jack’s getting harder by the second his erection rubbing against Jared’s thigh whenever he leans in close.

 

He pauses to light a cigarette, which has Jared heaving a quiet sigh of relief for a moment before Jack grins and pushes his face up into Jared’s space, breathing smoke against Jared’s lips. There’s a blinding pain somewhere in the vicinity of his hipbone a moment later and he looks down to see Jack extinguishing his cigarette against his skin. The man looks so excited by the way Jared’s body is pulled taut with pain and Jared feels a sick wave of anger in his stomach. His muscles still won’t work properly and the helplessness fuels his anger, nearly brings tears to his eyes as Jack palms the razor again.

 

Finally, when Jared’s is covered in cuts and what are sure to be bruises from neck to knees, Jack turns away to grab a thin leather belt.

 

“I’ll keep the cane for next time,” he growls and raises the belt.

 

The first blow is agony across the deep cuts along Jared’s thighs. Jared has to close his eyes and bite his lip to keep from screaming. He throws his head back and waits, every muscle locked and screaming as the anticipation burns in his stomach.

 

Instead of pain, though, the next thing that hits him is Jack’s confused “Wha?” and a muffled _thump_. Jared forces his eyes open and the belt is on the ground. Jensen is standing before Jack, Jared’s gun in one hand and a knife in the other.

 

He’s beautiful. The circles under his eyes are gone,  there’s color in his lips and cheeks - he’s still pale, Jared figures that’s not changing anytime soon, but there’s a healthy flush of blood under his freckles. And he’s strong - not a trace of a limp or slowness as he takes a step forward and lifts the gun.

 

Jared is gratified to see the flash of fear in Jack’s eyes before he tries to cover it.

 

“What are you doing?” Jack asks, false bravado in his voice failing to cover the quiver.

 

“You don’t deserve a quick death,” Jensen answers, head tilting a little and _fuck_ , he doesn’t even sound nervous. Jared keeps stealing glances at him, knowing he should keep his eyes on the enemy but unable to stop looking at Jensen. He’s naked and filthy and completely unashamed. He looks... powerful. Still on the thin side, in a way that makes Jared want to bring him another couple of deer and lay them at his feet - an urge that Jared is carefully not examining - but he’s got lean, sleek muscles and his stance says he knows how to use them.

 

Jack glances at the tools beside him, the knives and razors and pliers and a couple of implements Jared can’t identify.

 

“You even know how to use that thing?” Jack asks, jerking his chin at the gun in Jensen’s hand. Jared can see him inching his hand toward the tray, and he opens his mouth to warn Jensen when a shot tears through the air. Jared’s ears are ringing but the sight of Jensen, standing with a smoking gun in his hand while Jack backs away from the spot where the tray of tools once stood, sends a rush of excitement through him.

 

“Please...” Jack starts, his eyes darting nervously around the room. “Show some mercy.”

 

Jensen barks out a harsh laugh.

 

“What, like you showed me mercy? Like you showed the others who came before me mercy? Yeah, I know there were others. And I know you’re never going to stop.”

 

Jack’s back hits the wall and he whimpers. Jensen turns to glance at Jared.

 

“You okay?” he asks, and Jared can’t help a quick grin. Sure, he’s losing blood fast and his body’s beyond battered, but it was worth it just to see Jensen like this. The corner of Jensen’s mouth is just starting to lift when movement from the corner of Jared’s vision catches his eye.

 

Jack must’ve backed up against a section of wall with mounted weapons, because he’s holding a gun now, and it’s trained on Jared. Jared, who is only a few feet away from Jack. Jensen’s face twists into a snarl but Jack just steps forward, confident again now that he has a gun trained on a naked, unarmed man. Typical.

 

“You put that gun down, Leech, or I’ll blow your boy here apart.” Jack takes a step toward Jared, then another, until he’s standing directly behind him, rough denim scraping against Jared’s bare ass.

 

Jared doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t want to give Jack a reason to get trigger happy. He watches helplessly as Jensen slowly lowers the gun, face unreadable.

 

“Kick it to me,” Jack says, and Jensen starts to lower it to the ground. Jack chuckles and wraps an arm around Jared, one hand spread possessively low on Jared’s belly. Jared’s first instinct is to kick back, to find something soft and shove his heel in until he can get free. He doesn’t need to, though, because the moment Jack’s hand starts to move South, Jensen lifts the gun back up and fires.

 

It’s so fast Jared would miss it if he weren’t standing within inches of the target. Jensen’s crouched, had been about to drop the gun, and he barely raises it before firing one shot. Jared knows it found its mark when Jack sags against him briefly before hitting the floor. The gun he was holding clatters against the concrete for a moment, then everything goes still.

 

Jensen meets Jared’s eyes and Jared can see the worry there. He knows exactly what it is, too: Jensen doesn’t kill, never has, and he was counting on that fact to keep Jared on his side. Jared wants to laugh. He wants to tell Jensen, _I just wish I could have seen his face when you killed him_ and _That fucker deserved to die_ and _You’re really fucking hot when you’re shooting a bad guy_. Instead he just grins and Jensen takes a step forward, then another, until he’s right in Jared’s face.

 

Jensen’s lips are warm on his and he kisses rougher than Jared would have thought - desperate, like he needs to taste every inch of Jared _right the fuck now_. Jared wants to wrap his arms around him and draw him in but he’s still chained and the blood loss is starting to get to him. He digs his teeth into Jensen’s plush lower lip, draws it into his mouth and sucks until Jensen is whining and grinding against him. Bare skin sliding on skin in sweet friction has Jared seeing white, and his head feels light, and the room is spinning...

 

The next thing Jared knows, Jensen is ripping the chains from the wall. Jared knows vampires have superhuman strength but seeing it on Jensen is something else entirely. Jensen frees Jared like it’s nothing and supports his weight without hesitation. He puts another couple of bullets in Jack while Jared nuzzles his neck.

 

They stumble back to Jared’s car together and Jensen takes the keys out of Jared’s hand without asking. Jared never lets anyone drive his car but there’s still blood leaving his body and he’s pretty sure the drugs are still in his system so he doesn’t say a word, just gets in the passenger seat and tips his head back.

 

The next time he opens his eyes, Jensen is gently shaking him from the open passenger side door and handing him a coat.

 

“Come on... I got us a room, let’s get you cleaned up.”

 

Jensen helps him up to the motel room. Now that the adrenaline is fading, the pain is setting in and while it’s not the worst Jared’s had, it’s enough to have him walking slow and leaning on Jensen.

 

When they get inside, Jensen bypasses the bed entirely and brings Jared into the bathroom. He leaves him with instructions to wash up and yell if he needs anything. Jared smiles at himself through his whole shower, thinking of how Jensen would never have dared to tell Jared what to do a week ago. He’s not sure if it’s killing Jack or whatever happend to make Jensen heal up so well - Jared’s thinking the blood finally did its job - but whatever it is, Jared approves. Vehemently.

 

Jensen has Jared’s medical kit out and ready when Jared steps out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. He gestures to the bed and Jared obediently sits and watches while Jensen efficiently disinfects and bandages his more shallow cuts, sews a few stitches here and there as required, and hands Jared a couple of pills.

 

“You’re pretty good at this,” Jared comments as he downs the pills.

 

“I was studying to be a nurse, before... you know.”

 

“Oh.” Jared blinks a few times. He’s already feeling fuzzy - presumably from the pills - and the pain is melting away, leaving only heavy exhaustion. Good thing he’s already on a bed. He starts to climb back toward the headboard, burrowing under the sheets and peeking out to find Jensen staring, a heated flush on his face. Jared’s puzzled until he notices his towel in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed and realizes what a show he must have just given Jensen. Oops.

 

“I’m just... I’m going to clean up,” Jensen says, still pink under all that grime. It’s only then that Jard realizes Jensen is once again wearing Jared’s clothes - he must’ve gotten them from the car when they arrived at the motel - and the thought still sends a sharp thrill through him. He snuggles down into the comfortable bed to wait for Jensen to return.

 

***

 

Jared wakes up warm and comfortable despite the dull ache in his body. He remembers groggily waking up at some point in the night and being handed more pills with some water. It takes Jared a few seconds to realize he’s wrapped around something warm and smooth and soft and another it takes him another few seconds to realize it’s Jensen. He tries to gently disentangle himself without waking the other man up but Jensen keeps shifting back into Jared’s arms until Jared half-falls, half-jumps out of bed.

 

He looks down to see Jensen, now sprawled across the entire bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers Jared happens to know are his own. The image does nothing to calm the erection Jared’s been sporting since he woke up so he heads to the bathroom to take care of it. Jared doesn’t even bother pretending to himself that he’s not picturing soft, pale, freckled skin under him, plump red lips around his cock and startling green eyes gazing up at him from under a thick fringe of eyelashes when he comes.

 

He takes his time in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and straightening up, but he can only stall for so long. Jensen’s still in bed, curled up on Jared’s side with one arm and a leg thrown over Jared’s pillow, his face pressed against it. Jared’s itching desire to get out of town wars with his need to keep Jensen like this - safe, content, _with him_. He sighs and moves to shake Jensen awake.

 

***

 

It’s a four hour drive to the nearest safe place Jared knows. It’s not his favorite - mostly because it’s not nearly as isolated as Jared would like - but it’ll have to do for now. Jensen drives and Jared dozes and tries not to think about Jensen’s lips on his or whether Jensen plans on putting them there again anytime soon. They stop once for food and once for gas and Jensen doesn’t say a word the whole way but Jared sees his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, sees him steal glances at Jared every once in a while. Every time Jared’s mind wanders back to Jensen’s body or his hands or his lips or his sinful eyes and he shifts around, he’s snapped back to the present by another tense huff of breath from beside him.

 

By the time they arrive, Jared’s thinking he’s going to need some more alone-time with his right hand and Jensen seems wound tighter than a hunter’s knot. Jensen stands too close while Jared unlocks the door and immediately shuts the door behind them once they’re inside.

 

“Are we safe now?” Jensen asks, serious gaze burning into Jared’s as he nods. Jared only has a second to wonder what happened to his shy vampire when Jensen slams into him, hands coming up to slide into his hair, around the back of his neck, drawing him down. Jared panics for all of a fraction of a second, hunter reflexes telling him to _fight_ , but the eager mouth pressing at his tells him otherwise.

 

Jensen kisses like Jared might disappear at any moment, like this is the only chance he’ll ever have and he’s more than taking it. He licks into Jared’s mouth with only the barest hesitation, gone the moment Jared opens for him. His hands rove over Jared’s body, stopping occasionally to wrap around his hips or grip his arms or run through his hair. It’s like he needs to feel every part of Jared, taste every inch of him, and it sends a wave of heat through Jared so strong his knees go weak.

 

Jensen wrenches himself away with a visible effort, lips staying within inches of Jared’s and hands still fisted in Jared’s shirt.

 

“Is this... Is this-”

 

“ ‘S good,” Jared answers and that’s all it takes to have Jensen back on him.

 

Jared manages to get Jensen up against the wall, one of his hands dropping to cup Jensen’s ass through denim while he grinds forward. Jensen’s whimpering and the sound goes straight to Jared’s cock, already hard and leaking against his boxers.

 

Jensen’s doing something, hands fumbling at Jared’s shirt and it takes Jared a moment to realize he’s trying to take it off. When he gets it, Jared tears his shirt away and coaxes Jensen’s off as well. He takes a moment to appreciate the expanse of soft, pale skin before him, the lean muscle of Jensen’s chest and the flared angles of his hipbones. He only gets a moment before Jensen is pressing in close, sealing their bodies together like every inch separating them is painful.

 

“Bedroom?” Jared asks. Jensen nods dazedly against him and they separate to stumble down the hall. Jared stops to grab supplies from his duffel, so when he walks into the room, Jensen’s already on the bed. Naked.

 

Jared’s seen Jensen naked before, but this is different. This isn’t a filthy, broken down Jensen shackled to a wall. This is Jensen lying back on the bed, propped up on his elbows as he looks expectantly up at Jared. There’s a pink flush heating his cheeks and chest and his eyes are darker than usual, and Jared feels a hot rush of lust at the sight of his lips so puffy and red.

 

Jared throws the lube and condom on the bed and drops his jeans and boxers before climbing up after Jensen.

 

***

 

Jensen’s been holding this back since the moment he shot Jack in the head and it’s like the proverbial dam has broken. He can’t seem to keep his hands or mouth off Jared’s skin, can’t stop staring at him and can’t really believe this is happening.

 

Jensen’s mind goes quiet and still as he finds himself surrounded by Jared. Jared is safety, warmth and freedom from Jack, but more than that, Jared is _Jared_. Even now, he’s trying to be careful as he settles between Jensen’s legs, propped up on one elbow and leaning down to mouth at Jensen’s collarbone.

 

Jensen can feel one big hand trailing down his chest, pausing to thumb over a nipple in a way that leaves him gasping before slipping down his side to palm his hip. Jensen digs his fingertips into Jared’s back and shoulder when he feels Jared’s hand move even lower, one finger playing down the line of his cock and down, down over his balls. His entire being is so focused on that one finger that he lets out a whine when it leaves him, only satisfied when it returns, slippery wet, to circle his hole.

 

_This_ , he thinks, _this is what I want_. He arches into Jared’s touch, trying to get more, and Jared groans against his neck as he presses one thick finger inside.

 

Jensen can hear Jared muttering something but he’s barely paying attention because Jared is rubbing inside him, and when he finds Jensen’s prostate it’s all Jensen can do to stay on the bed. He digs his toes into the mattress and arches his spine as Jared brushes over that spot again and again until he’s practically writhing. It’s been a very long time since Jensen felt something like this, and it’s never been _this_ good.

 

“So tight... So good... God, Jensen, I- _fuck_ ,” Jared pants and pulls back to watch Jensen’s face as he pushes another finger in beside the first. Jensen relishes the stretch and slight burn, had nearly forgotten how good it can feel when it’s wanted. He rocks down on Jared’s fingers, pushing past the careful tenderness Jared’s been showing. Jared’s surprise lasts a brief second before he’s thrusting his fingers into Jensen with enough force to push Jensen up the mattress.

 

By the time Jared pulls his fingers back out, Jensen is gripping the headboard tight and begging wordlessly. Jared shifts back long enough to roll on a condom before he’s back. Jared’s biting his lip _hard_ when he pushes inside, big hands holding Jensen’s thighs apart while his cock spreads him open. He’s bigger than Jensen would have imagined, _bigger than Jack_ says a voice at the back of his head. That thought only lasts a moment because Jared is there, right there kissing him and mumbling praise and filth against his lips.

 

When Jared bottoms out, he slides his hands up to Jensen’s hips and grips them tight while Jensen wraps his legs around Jared’s middle, drawing him in even deeper, pulling a groan from Jared’s throat. Jensen loses himself in the sweet drag and pressing fullness of Jared inside him, the way Jared’s hands roam over his body, twisting a nipple before dipping a thumb into Jensen’s mouth. Jensen closes his lips around it and sucks, meeting Jared’s eye just to watch him lose control, inch by inch.

 

Jared’s thrusts are getting harder, sharper, and he drops his forehead to Jensen’s shoulder and his hand to Jensen’s cock. Jensen’s so hard, dripping and throbbing, that it only takes a few pulls and well-placed thrusts to his prostate before his whole body is tensing, thighs tightening around Jared, ass clamping down on his cock and Jensen is coming so hard he can’t see. He can hear Jared though, hear him babbling something about “perfect,” and “so tight,” and “fuck Jensen I’m gonna-”. Jared shakes hard through his own orgasm, hips making short, aborted jabs into Jensen before shoving in as deep as he can and going still.

 

***

 

Jared doesn’t pull out right away, half because he doesn’t want to and half because Jensen’s legs are still locked around him. When he finally does, he only moves away long enough to dispose of the condom and clean Jensen and himself off with a stray corner of the sheet. He wraps Jensen up in one arm and rolls onto his back, trying to find the words he needs to say and the courage to actually say them.

 

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Jared finally blurts out. He’s never been good at thinking things through before he says them. Jensen raises an eyebrow. “I mean, I’m not forcing you to stay. Not tying you up anymore.”

 

Jensen looks down and bites his lip, a deep blush spreading over his cheeks. Jared sort of can’t believe this is the same guy who steadily pulled the trigger on Jack barely a day earlier, the same guy who just practically begged Jared to fuck him through the mattress. He fights back the urge to wrap his limbs around Jensen like an octopus and never let go.

 

“And if I want to stay with you?” Jensen asks.

 

Jared’s heart rate kicks up a notch.

 

“I mean... I could - I could help, you know? And I want to. I want to keep you safe.” Jensen says it decisively, like they’re the truest words he’s ever spoken.

 

“Then we’d need to get you some guns. Couple knives. Maybe a-” Jared doesn’t finish, Jensen’s lips pressed against his stopping the words. It doesn’t matter - they’ve got plenty of time to work it out. As he rolls Jensen onto his back, Jared wonders how long it’ll be till Jensen can outshoot him.

 

***

 The End.


End file.
